


kids aren't alright

by Charlie_chan16



Series: rock you like a hurricane [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:47:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25671556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie_chan16/pseuds/Charlie_chan16
Summary: Sheev Palpatine has merged Temple Records with his own label Ultimate Power Records to create the conglomerate: Empire Records.What will this spell out for the 501st?
Relationships: Barriss Offee/Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Series: rock you like a hurricane [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861459
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Ahehe surprise? Leave a comment and/or Kudos maybe...? If you think Palps is a slimy bastard say 'I'...?

Sheev Palpatine was a man infatuated with power. And he wasn’t one to deny it. In fact, he knew this when he was a child and took control of the small bookshelf in his nursery. He’d have his brothers and sister trade in pastries and sweets to take a book away, and they weren’t allowed to take it out of the room. That is, until he was caught in the act by their nanny at the time. 

So, it came as no surprise to him that he developed a controlling and ambitious nature. And when he heard that Temple Records was drowning in debt? Well, he had to get in on the happenings. 

Being the rival of the biggest Record Company in Philadelphia had been fun. And Palpatine found it amusing when Yoda and Mace had floundered as his Label rose to greater heights. 

But he found it dull however, when what was about to happen seemed so obvious, yet the two proud men didn’t seem to notice it as their company was ripped from their fingers. Although, he might’ve not been as subtle as he’d have liked. 

Now, Palpatine had a new sense of power owning not one Record Company, but two under the same name. And all those underlings ripe for the controlling. Like puppets on strings. He found himself with a leering smile spreading his lips. 

The phone on his desk suddenly rang, dragging him reluctantly from his musings. He held the receiver up to his ear, his face the epitome of annoyance. 

“Yes?” he drawled, half a second away from slamming the phone down again if his time was wasted. Planning took a long time. 

“I’m sorry to disturb you, sir,” his receptionist said, and Palpatine rolled his eyes at her timid tone. “But the 501st are here for their eleven o’clock meeting.” 

His lips pulled into another smile, and his voice turned saccharine as he told her to send them in. He adjusted the open notebook that sat on the table top, fingering the pages as he waited for his plan to commence. 

<.>

Earlier that morning, Obi-Wan sat at the breakfast bench in their apartment. The one they’d managed to buy with the money from the second album that was two minutes away from the Label's building. It had been a good investment at first, seeing as it was bigger than their last one and was closer to their work. 

But now, Obi-Wan shivered at the thought of living close to where Palpatine sat in the office that used to be Mace and Yoda’s. He felt as though he could sense the evil intent from their home. 

He was in a bad mood, which wasn’t a regular occurrence for Obi-Wan. However, Anakin watched with a concerned look as he stabbed his spoon into his cereal, watching despondently as the milk splattered onto the table beside his elbow. 

“Obi?” Anakin said, “I think the cereal has had enough.” And the bowl was placed at the edge of the table beside him, halting the clicking sound that had emanated from the metal hitting ceramic. 

“This should not be legal,” he grouched, glaring at the TV screen which blared the morning news. The fact that Palpatine had bought and renamed Temple records was everywhere, and Obi-Wan would find no other pleasure than to strangle the slimy git with his bare hands. And he said as much to his audience of one.

“Woah, Obi,” Anakin reprimanded, expression shocked, “there’s no need to get violent. Who knows, maybe this will turn out good in the end.” 

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows incredulously, scoffing so hard Anakin thought he’d hack up his breakfast. 

“The only thing that man will bring good to is his own well being,” Obi-Wan said vehemently, glaring at the TV once again as Anakin sighed. 

“Look, I don’t like it as much as you do. But if we don’t shake a leg we’re gonna be late to the meeting,” Anakin said, and Obi-Wan turned his glare onto him. “Do you  _ want  _ Ahsoka and Rex to deal with Palpatine on their own?” 

Reluctantly, Obi-Wan placed his bowl in the sink and went to put on his shoes. 

As it took a few minutes to walk to the Label’s property, Obi-Wan tried to drag them out as long as possible, almost going as far as to drag his feet. 

The corridors and lobby were bustling with activity when they arrived. Phones were ringing off the hook, assistants darted past them, looking decidedly harried as they dropped files and papers on the floor. 

It was almost an obstacle course to make their way over to the elevators where Ahsoka and Rex waited for them dutifully. The two of them didn’t look very pleased to be there either. 

Anakin took one look at Ahsoka’s facial expression and placed his index finger on her lips suddenly. “I want no complaints. I already have a whiny Obi-Wan. I don’t want another grumpy child on my hands.” 

“I’m not a child,” she grouched when Anakin finally dropped his finger, bottom lip jutting out in petulance. 

“How old were you again, Commander?” Rex asked slyly, and Ahsoka slapped his arm, quite hard if the wince Rex gave was anything to go by. 

It was strange to see Mace and Yoda’s office again. The desks had been moved out, the comfortable chairs were gone and the atmosphere was changed because of it. Now, the four of them felt incredibly uncomfortable, and it wasn’t really helped by the positively slimy smile Palpatine had aimed at them as they entered. 

“Good morning,” he said to them in his grandfatherly fashion. “Please, have a seat.” The four of them settled into the high back wooden chairs, finding it difficult to get comfortable. 

A knock on the door drew their attention, but they relaxed visibly when Qui-Gon stepped over the threshold. Good, someone was finally in their corner. 

“Now, there is a reason I called you four here this morning. Well, five,” Palpatine amended as he leaned forward in his seat. He almost seemed to stare them down as the silence stretched. 

“There is one thing that keeps an audience invested,” he began, and the four of them glanced at each other in confusion. “Drama. And what says drama more than discordance?” 

The four of them tensed slightly as Anakin gathered his courage. “What is it you’re saying?” he asked hesitantly. 

Palpatine’s smile grew wider, almost evil looking as he sat back again. “What I’m saying, is there is to be discordance within your group.” 

“What kind of ‘discordance’? You’re being very vague,” Obi-Wan said, expression irritated, as Palpatine smirked. 

The four of them frowned at him in confusion, not liking the trajectory of the conversation and Palpatine sighed in exasperation. “I want you four to disband.” 

That got their attention, and their voices rose to shout at the man in front of them. 

Disband? Them?! But they’d hardly gotten started, and what was Palpatine  _ thinking  _ and-- 

The slap of skin on wood shut them up, and the glare that was directed to them was ice cold. They stared at him incredulously, and Palpatine revelled in the fear that lay beneath their expressions. This is what he wanted, control. But it would be a waiting game, and a very long one at that. 

“I can, and will terminate each and everyone of your contracts if you refuse,” Palpatine told them, being completely and deadly serious. “And don’t even think of trying to sign in with another label. I have contacts in very high places.” 

He was blatantly threatening them, but he had removed all cameras from his office, granted at the risk of his own safety, but it was well worth it. No proof? No police. That, and he didn’t think these four  _ children  _ would be able to touch him. He’d been planning this for years, and he wasn't going to let it end so quickly. 

He watched as the four of them tensed in their seats, and realising they were beaten. He smiled at them almost kindly, but it didn’t seem to reach his eyes as he scrutinised them one by one. 

“You may go,” he said finally, waving them away. “I will be in contact when I have made the announcement. You might not want to plan any holidays for the near future.” And he watched as they left with slumped shoulders. 

The silence in his office was echoing when they left, and he swung around in his chair to gaze out at the skyline. A knock on the door startled him from his thoughts, and he allowed them to enter. 

“Sir, Darth is here to see you,” his secretary said, and his smile stretched his lips again. 

“Perfect, oh and Delia?” he asked as she was about to close the door again. “Please make an appointment for next week with the Board. I believe they will want to hear about our progress.” 

<.>

Two days later found them once again in Palpatine’s office. He’d added more of his awards and trinkets to the room, erasing the memory of Mace and Yoda further. The four band members shivered at his expression, the man leering like the cat who got the cream. 

“So glad you could join me again,” he said saccharinely. “We have a lot to discuss today, so I’d appreciate it if we had no interruptions.” 

He called in his secretary, the slight woman handing over a manila folder thick with paperwork. It felt ominous, and the four of them knew that it held the future of their careers, clutched in the claws of Palpatine. And they could do nothing to stop it. 

Their expressions were hard, glares hateful as the man opened the folder almost gleefully. He seemed to take pleasure in the tense anticipation he controlled as he slowly and carefully inspected its contents, leafing through pages and pages of contracts, plans and all sorts of other things. 

Once he was finished, he closed it again and pushed it off to the side, leaning forwards so that his gaze was firmly on the four in front of him. They shifted in their seats, the atmosphere tense and awkward as they waited for Palpatine to speak. 

“It is obvious that we will be in need of a reason as to why the 501st is disbanding,” he said. “I’ve taken much time to deliberate on it, and decided that it will be because you all want to go different ways. Of course, this isn’t as big as I wanted it to be but anymore drama would cause sales to plummet.” 

He paused, waiting for them to speak up but not a word was spoken, and he took that as incentive to continue. “I have organised time for the dust to settle, so to speak, before each of you begin on your solo projects.” 

Palpatine could tell he had their attention now. “You will each compose your own solo albums. Each will be branching into a new style of music completely different to what you’re used to. There will be one solo album each, and then we will be continuing onto new projects which will ultimately strive to promote Empire Records.” 

“On camera, you do not like each other. In interviews you will say you don’t talk to each other. And as far as the public are concerned, none of you are in a relationship together. What you do outside of those conditions is up to you,” he told them, expecting roars of outrage or some kind of outburst. He got nothing but silence. 

_ Good, they’re learning,  _ Palpatine thought, and he dismissively waved them away. They left without a word, and he pulled out a piece of paper and a pen to write down a statement. 

**MUSIC ARTIST 501ST DISBANDED. MEMBERS SAY THEY ARE NOT ON GOOD TERMS. READ MORE ON PAGE 5.**


	2. One - Ahsoka

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, so. The next four chapters are going to focus on each of the band members and what they get up to in the time span of six months. Think of it like Schrodinger's (no idea if I spelt that right) cat, until you decide everything happens at once yadda yadda yadda. 
> 
> So, this chapter focuses on Ahsoka. The next is Rex, then Obi-Wan, then Anakin and then it will continue on from there. 
> 
> This installment will be a bit different to the last in the fact that I have not written it like I had with R U Mine? As such, I will be posting chapters as I write them and I have no idea when that will be as I'm prepping for college, learning drivers theory, working on other WIPs etc you get it you don't need to hear me whine. I don't know when the next chapter is up as I don't have it written BUT! it will probably be soon so please don't comment asking for another chapter, likelyhood is I won't answer. And I love answering comments, they make my day UwU.
> 
> Alright! On with the chapter, and please do leave a comment or kudos. And I will see you guys next time!

Ahsoka was finding it difficult to sleep. Something heavy weighed on her chest, and it felt as if a stone was holding down on the bed of the sea and she could see the sunlight glistening on the surface. But for all she struggled, she couldn’t reach the surface. It was this suffocating sensation that kept her up to all hours of the night until exhaustion weighed her eyelids down and she’d drift into a restless slumber. 

She never breathed a word of it to Barriss, not wanting to worry her partner no matter how many articles and friends said that communication was key. But this was something Barriss couldn’t fix, it was something far bigger than them. 

Her mind cast back to the meeting the band had had with Palpatine, the one where he’d outlined their careers down to the finest detail for the next six months. She had shivered at how cold and clinical he had been about it, as if they were pawns in this massive game of chess. 

He threw about rights to movies, modelling and albums. Projects that would keep the four of them apart for months on end. Or at least that’s what he hoped. He didn’t know how stubborn the four of them were, and how determined they could be. 

The four of them had met up that weekend, sitting in a rundown cafe wearing hoodies, caps and sunglasses. Ahsoka had chortled, commenting that they looked like Marvel characters on the run. 

They spent a good two hours chatting, acting as if they’d been away from each other for months rather than two weeks. But Ahsoka felt comforted that they could do this; easily fall into conversation as if they weren’t separated most days. 

It did little to alleviate the stone on her chest, and with startling clarity she realised what it was. She missed the boys. Having the band split meant that each of them were on their own but Anakin had Obi-Wan, Rex had his brothers and Ahsoka had Barriss who sometimes came home late in the evening. 

Gently and quietly she eased herself from the bed, covering Barriss’ exposed shoulder with the blanket before padding into the kitchen. The apartment was pitch black, the twinkle of streetlights catching her gaze. She could hear the cars outside, muffled but still distinguishable. 

She didn’t dare turn the kettle on, opting instead for a glass of water and grabbing her notebook from the coffee table. Settling down on the wide window sill she eased the window open, letting the cool night air drift in, ruffling her hair as she opened the book on her knee. 

Ahsoka was finding it difficult to write without the guys, their absence stark when she needed someone to discuss lyrics with. Barriss wasn’t much help, complimenting her lyrics when she found they didn’t work. It also didn’t help that she wasn’t writing in her style. 

As Palpatine had said, one of the first projects would be a solo album each. And because he had been wanting to promote the label, he had assigned four different styles to each of them. Ahsoka found it incredibly ironic that she’d been tasked with an album completely made of ballads. 

She remembered wanting to write one for their first album, and she’d mostly been successful but she never found it fun to perform. She lived for the excitement that came with playing their music, fast paced and electrifying. 

She was stuck. Nothing came to her, the pages either ending up scrunched in the wastepaper basket or staring blankly at her while she tore her hair out. 

She had tried asking for Anakin’s advice, but he’d been as clueless as she. The other two weren’t much help either, and so she was left alone with her blank pages. 

Ahsoka groaned, tilting her head back to thump against the wall in exasperation. She had a few months to complete the album, and at best she expected there would be nine songs in all. She turned her head, gaze catching on her acoustic propped up in the corner. She glanced to the door that led into their bedroom, listening to see if Barriss was awake. 

She had felt a bit of a strain on their relationship. Although, it could’ve been because of the amount of time she was spending away from Barriss. They’d tried to video call when she and the boys had been working on the second album, but either Ahsoka or Barriss herself were too tired to keep the conversation going so it would end after a few seconds. And it hadn’t gotten much better even though she’d been home for months. 

The instrument was familiar beneath her fingers, and she brushed off the thin layer of dust that lay over the frets. It had been a gift for her nineteenth from her mother, to replace the one that had been ‘lost’ and totally not forgotten on the train when she’d been exhausted from class. 

Ahsoka settled again on the window sill, leaning the guitar against her leg as she fingered the strings. She felt something calm within her, the knots that had been tightening within her shoulders disappearing with each strum of the guitar under her fingers. 

She didn’t notice Barriss coming in until she took a seat beside her, socked feet curling underneath her as the music tapered off. 

“I’m sorry if I woke you,” Ahsoka said guilt coating her voice, glancing up as she placed a warm hand on her partner’s leg. 

“You didn’t wake me,” Barriss replied, quiet and calm. “It sounds lovely.” 

Ahsoka ducked her head, her cheeks turning pink at the compliment. “It’s not finished yet,” she told her, fidgeting with her fingers. “It still needs a bridge, and lyrics and all the other jazz that makes a song.” 

Barriss leant forwards, fingers intertwining with Ahsoka’s who couldn’t help but start to mentally count the freckles splashed across her cheeks. 

“I think that for a starting point, it’s gorgeous. And it’ll be amazing once it’s finished,” Barriss said encouragingly, rubbing circles with her thumbs into Ahsoka’s knuckles. She found that she missed this, this easiness between the two of them. 

They sat there for a few minutes more, watching cars drive by out the window and enjoying each other’s company. This was why Ahsoka loved Barriss, the way they could do this with no pressure to talk, to fill the silence between them. It never sat heavy over them and there was no rush to break it. 

After a few minutes Ahsoka followed Barriss back to bed, the suffocating stone on her chest forgotten as her eyes finally slipped shut, and she dove into the arms of a dreamless sleep. 

<.>

“Palpatine said that we couldn’t be seen together in  _ public _ ,” Anakin told them as he led the other three up a set of concrete stairs. “Which means this is completely fine.” He threw open the door to the label's roof, away from prying eyes. 

“I’m starting to think you have a thing for picnics, Skyguy,” Ahsoka commented, taking in the plaid blanket on the ground and the wicker basket that he held in his hands. 

“What? No,” he replied sarcastically, winking at her as he passed. “I just thought that seeing as we’re all having trouble with our writing we could have a writing session.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Rex piped up, taking a seat cross-legged on the blanket 

They stayed there for a good two hours, and Ahsoka found herself smiling until her cheeks hurt. The four of them spent their time tossing lyrics at each other, asking for advice and generally being chaotic. 

“I’ve missed this,” she broached halfway through, legs kicked up in the air as she lay on her stomach. The pages of her notebook were being filled faster than they had in weeks, and she felt as if she could actually see where this album was meant to go, the path stretching out in front of her. 

“Me too,” Rex replied, patting her hand that lay closest to him on the blanket. “Writing by myself is proving harder than I thought.” 

“I think you mean singing by yourself without my dulcet tones is harder than you thought,” Anakin said in a haughty tone. Rex laughed good naturedly as Obi-Wan slapped his partner’s arm and Ahsoka aimed her pencil at his head. 

“It is getting harder to tolerate our new...boss,” Obi-Wan admitted, and they fell silent. “Although I suppose we don’t have any other choice.” 

“We could make our own label,” Anakin commented, and the other three stared at him as if he’d grown another head. “I mean, it would mean Palpatine wouldn’t be able to spread rumours about us because we wouldn’t be trying to get into another label. We’d be able to write our own music and promote others.” 

“You’re forgetting that it takes years of planning and saving to even get one off the ground,” Obi-Wan told him, and Anakin pouted childishly. 

“Nice try Skyguy,” Ahsoka said, patting his shoulder comfortingly. “But I think we’re gonna have to deal with old Palps for a bit longer.” 

<.>

Barriss was gone by the time Ahsoka woke up the next morning. A note sat on her bedside table, the cursive print telling her Barriss would be back late that night and to not wait up for her. Knowing she had a meeting that morning at ten, and that her phone screen showed that it was eight thirty, Ahsoka rolled over for some extra shuteye. 

She was almost late because of it, but she arrived with about five minutes to spare, yawning widely as Delia led her to Palpatine’s door. The office seemed to be all abuzz that morning, and Palpatine was in a good mood as Ahsoka took her seat before his desk. 

“Thank you for joining me so early my dear,” he said to her, taking a sip from his coffee cup. “Coffee? Tea?” Ahsoka shook her head, fidgeting with her fingers in her lap. Palpatine waved Delia away, and they were enveloped by silence when the door clicked shut. 

“I hear that the album is coming along nicely,” he commented, gently easing the cup down to his desktop. “Is there any date to which you will be able to begin recording?” 

“Um...well I have about four out of the nine songs I need to compose,” Ahsoka told him. “And I have the concepts for the other five.” 

“Yes, but concepts are not songs, dear,” Palpatine replied, leaning forward to lean on his elbows. Ahsoka recoiled slightly at the almost condescending tone he used, as if he were talking to a child not an experienced performer. 

He suddenly stood from his desk, smoothing down his suit jacket as he paced towards the window. Ahsoka watched him intently, a sense of dread creeping up her spine. She could tell he wasn’t happy, although she knew from rumours that flew about that it didn’t take much to make Palpatine unhappy. 

His shoulders heaved with a sigh as he turned back to her, hands folded in front of him. “I’m in a bit of a predicament my dear,” he began, and Ahsoka’s skin crawled at the term of endearment. “You see the Board expects results, and they want to see a rise in sales for Empire Records if we are to be continuing work.” 

He paused to take his seat once again, leant back with his legs crossed and Ahsoka could see the worry lines in his forehead. 

“So, the disbandment of the 501st was the first step to take to ensure this company makes money. The next was that the four of you would write albums a month later to keep interest with the public.” His eyes suddenly took on a cold look, one that held a sense of disappointment. 

“So far, in the month that you four have been separated, none of you have produced an album. Granted, that is because some of you have other duties I’ve assigned but  _ you  _ Ahsoka have no such tasks,” Palpatine told her. 

“So why, pray tell, is this album taking so long?” he asked quietly, staring at Ahsoka. 

She swallowed hard before replying. “I haven’t written many ballads, so the style and tone is kind of difficult to get right,” she explained as best she could. “And I’m not usually the only one to write a whole album so it’s difficult to come up with ideas for songs by myself.” 

There was a short silence in which Palpatine seemed to take in that information and sighed as he sat back in his seat. “Alright, those do seem to be valid reasons,” he said, and Ahsoka relaxed slightly. “However, I will give you three more weeks and I then want the album on my desk. Otherwise, I’m afraid your contract will end up in the paper shredder.” 

He dismissed her, and Ahsoka left with as much dignity she could muster, her mind already racing to come up with lyrics as she took the bus back home. 

<.>

“Rex!” Ahsoka cried, dodging people in the hallway as she jogged towards him. She’d finished recording the third song on her album, feeling exhausted emotionally and physically as the producer had wanted at least three takes so as to create layers in the song. She was very close to punching the guy by the end. 

The two of them embraced, Ahsoka clutching onto Rex’s shoulders tightly as if he’d disappear. He looked as tired as she felt, and she poked at the bags underneath his eyes. 

“Those look like you’d have to put them in the baggage hold they’re so bad,” she commented, her gaze taking in his slumped shoulders as well. “Are you doing okay?”

“Apart from the fact that this album is taking all of my emotional energy? Yeah I’m good,” he replied, and Ahsoka furrowed her brows at him. “Palpatine wants me to sing on my own, and the genre isn’t exactly my style so I’m finding it slightly difficult.” 

“Well, join the club,” she said sarcastically. “Palpatine has me writing a whole album full of ballads.” 

“I thought you wanted to write ballads, no?” Rex asked. 

“Yes, but writing and singing about depressing things the whole time isn’t exactly what I imagined. And my producer is a perfectionist and has a very specific vision for my songs. Even though they’re mine,” she told him, running a hand through her hair in exhaustion. 

“Have you heard from Obi or Skyguy?” Ahsoka asked him. 

“Not recently,” Rex replied. “I think Palpatine wants us to grow apart and sees the only way to do that is by keeping us busy.” 

“Stupid asshole,” Ahsoka murmured, and Rex burst out laughing but she could see his gaze darting around the place in slight worry. “I know, I know. Not meant to say that.” 

“Yes, I wouldn’t recommend it,” he told her. “We should organise another game night as a team.” 

“Absolutely, I’ve missed your ugly mugs,” Ahsoka said with a bright smile. “We could do it this weekend! The sooner the better, right?”

“Sure,” Rex replied, and the two of them split off, Rex going back to the recording studio, and Ahsoka going home hoping to get as far away as she could from her producer. 

<.>

Ahsoka planned to hold the game night at her place. Barriss was out, saying she had to work late as her boss had been breathing down her neck for a report so they would have the apartment to themselves. 

And as it was her house, her rules, Ahsoka cackled almost evilly as she brought down the familiar black and white box from the shelf. 

She wasn’t as good as Anakin and Obi-Wan with oven pizzas as often she would forget that they were in the oven, but she felt proud of her quesadillas. Although it wasn’t all that hard. 

She set out the plates and glasses on the table, placing napkins next to the crockery proudly. It had been a while since they had been able to meet up, their busy schedules keeping them apart. On the one time they had tried two weeks ago the four of them had been too tired to actually concentrate on what was going on. 

But each of them had emptied their day so that they wouldn’t be exhausted and Rex had told her that apparently Obi-Wan had taken both Anakin and his own phone away, putting them in a drawer not to be seen. Although when she asked, Rex told her that Anakin had snuck his phone out to text the bassist for help because his partner was insane. 

A knock on the door drew her attention, Anakin calling through the wood asking whether she was decent. She chuckled as she opened the door, swatting at the singer as he stepped through. 

“I should be the one to ask  _ you  _ that,” she snipped, pushing him towards the sitting room as the other two followed. “And before you make any moves to outvote my choice of game, might I just remind you it is my apartment, my rules and I can toss you out quite easily.” 

She could feel Obi-Wan’s disapproving stare on the back of her head but paid no mind to it. She knew that all four of them needed a bit of a break, and that Cards Against Humanity was the best way to lessen the tension and stress that lined their bodies. 

The food was gone within ten minutes, and the four of them had taken up the sitting room, Ahsoka and Rex on the sofa, Anakin on the floor leaning against Obi-Wan’s legs who sat in the big armchair. 

“Okay,” Anakin began, focusing on the black card he held in his hands. “Next from JK Rowling, Harry Potter and the Chamber of…” 

The sounds of giggling and rustling echoed around the room as the other three placed down their white cards. Ahsoka mentally cackled at her answer. 

Anakin swiped the cards into his hands elegantly, clearing his throat as he took in their answers. “Alright, next from JK Rowling, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Glory Holes.” There was a snort from the others, and Anakin placed it down again. “Next from JK Rowling, Harry Potter and the Chamber of being a Motherfucking Sorcerer.” 

Anakin practically grinned at the next one, and Ahsoka smirked almost evilly as he read it out. “Next from JK Rowling, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Harry Potter erotica.” The group burst into laughter as Anakin proclaimed the winner, and Ahsoka gladly claimed her prize. 

The game continued in much the same fashion, a bubble of warmth blooming in her stomach as she basked in the atmosphere surrounding them. She knew it couldn’t really last however. They’d be back to having to ignore one another, acting like they hated each other for the press. 

She often held these times close to her chest, locking them away in boxes for when she was sad or alone. She hoped for the time when things could return to normal, to where they don’t have their boss breathing down their necks for albums or projects and they can just relax and hang out all day. 

She hoped the others did the same too. 

<.>

The silence was beginning to get to her. She could see people darting around just outside the glass of the conference room but inside it was completely quiet. It made her breathing sound loud and the ticking of the clock next to the door seem like the boom of thunder. 

She considered the stage model before her, huffing out a breath as she picked up the small cutout of herself. It was for an interview next week on a late night talk show. Ahsoka was meant to perform one of her new songs live, to give it an ‘airing’ before the album was released as Palpatine put it. 

She never liked interviews even when she was with the boys, so the prospect of having to answer probing questions by herself made her skin crawl. 

It had been six months since the 501st disbanded, and the chill of winter was setting in. Ahsoka hadn’t seen the boys in about a month but she spied them often in the gossip columns in magazines. Although the same could be said for her. Any date she went on with Barriss now was dogged by paparazzi and she’d taken to wearing large sunglasses and a cap in public. 

Things had become strained between Ahsoka and Barriss, both of them usually too busy or tired to try going out for a date although it wasn’t for lack of trying. It didn’t sting any less whenever Ahsoka tried to organise something and Barriss would toss an excuse her way. 

Ahsoka sighed dejectedly as she laid her head on her arm, fiddling with the cutout of herself as she heaved a sigh that echoed through the silence. 

“Does someone need legal assistance?” came a familiar voice at the door, and Ahsoka’s gaze snapped up.  Padmé grinned at Ahsoka widely as the other pulled her into a tight hug. 

“How have you been?” Ahsoka asked once they’d sat down, her cheeks hurting from how big her smile was. She hadn’t seen Padmé in a while, her schedule so full she hadn’t really even thought of her. Internally Ahsoka winced at that, feeling as if she were a bad friend. 

“Oh you know. This and that really,” Padmé told her nonchalantly. “I’ve been tasked with all of the artists in the label, so I’m having to sort through the files Palpatine has on them so that if any of you come to me with a legal problem, I’m able to help.” 

“That sounds like a lot of work,” Ahsoka said, pulling a face at the thought of paperwork. 

“It’s not too bad. Most of them are organised anyway so it’s just a case of reading through them,” Padmé told her. “What about you? I’ve heard all about your album from Anakin. It sounds amazing!” 

“You talked to Skyguy?” Ahsoka asked, eager for news on her bandmates. 

“Only briefly. He was on his way to a photoshoot I think. He didn’t give me all the details,” Padmé said, brow furrowing in sympathy. 

Ahsoka nodded as she took that in. She knew that Anakin was busy, all of them were but it was strange that he hadn’t made the time to try to get in contact with her at all. 

“Was it strange writing an entirely different genre of music?” Padmé suddenly asked, jolting Ahsoka from her slowly spiralling thoughts. 

“It was difficult at first,” she replied, “I had to get used to writing by myself and finding the mental attitude to tackle a full on album was hard. But I think I pulled it off.” 

“And in great style,” Padmé said with a laugh. Ahsoka nodded in agreement and the conference room fell quiet again. 

Padmé pulled a piece of paper from her pocket, sliding it across the table. Ahsoka furrowed her brow in curiosity as she picked it up. 

“Seeing as the album is released next week, and if what Anakin said was true in the fact that you haven’t exactly had a break since the ‘Break Up’,” Padmé said with air quotes, “I was thinking we could take a girls weekend so that by the time the album is out, you’d be calm and zen.” 

Ahsoka was already nodding before Padmé finished her sentence, throwing herself at the other for yet another tight hug. “Please get me out of here,” she cried out jokingly and Padmé laughed. 

<.>

“Okay, but what if there was a zombie apocalypse?” Ahsoka asked  Padmé, turning in her car seat to face her. “Who would survive between Anakin and Rex?” They’d been at this since leaving the hotel that afternoon, attempting to find a way to make the hours slip by faster. 

“Ooh that’s a tough one,” Padmé replied, brow furrowing in thought. “Well, Rex looks like he’d be the sort of person to innately know how to scavenge, but Anakin told me he was on his high schools competitive fencing team.” 

“But which would be more useful up against a horde of hungry zombies?” Ahsoka asked watching as Padmé mulled over her answer. Ahsoka wasn’t sure either and was curious as to what Padmé’s thought process would be. 

There was silence for a few more seconds as Padmé pulled the car over to the pathway, turning off the ignition. Ahsoka glanced at her apartment building, spying a light on in her flat. Barriss was home, and Ahsoka could feel a bubble of warmth growing in her stomach. 

“I don’t know,” Padmé finally answered, and Ahsoka groaned loudly. “If you give me the day to think about it I’ll probably have an answer for you.” 

“You’d better,” Ahsoka said as she climbed out of the car. “It’s a matter of life and death.” 

“I get it, don’t worry I’ll have a reply for you,” Padmé told her with a smile. 

“Thank you for this weekend. I really needed it,” Ahsoka said, leaning her arms against the car door. Her duffle bag bumped against her hip as she tried to keep the strap from slipping. 

“No problem, we should do it again,” Padmé replied kindly, patting Ahsoka’s hand. 

They exchanged their final goodbyes and Ahsoka watched the car turn around the corner before heading inside. She smiled in relief and happiness at the sight of her own front door, fumbling with the keys in the lock and pushing it open. 

“Barriss? I’m home!” she called out, tossing the keys into the bowl they kept by the front door. “We decided to leave this afternoon because the hotel was getting quite busy. But it was a really nice room and--” 

A hot, sharp lance of pain and confusion shot through Ahsoka’s chest as she stepped into the sitting room, her gaze falling onto the sofa. She felt as though someone was squeezing her neck and cutting off her oxygen supply as she took in the sight of Barriss on top of someone else. 

The groans and whines coming from the two of them were enough to bring tears to Ahsoka’s eyes. “What the fuck?!” she exclaimed, and the two pushed apart as if electrocuted by a live wire. 

Barriss paled and the other girl seemed to take that as a reason to go, grabbing her coat and darting out the door. Ahsoka didn’t make a move to stop her, teary gaze fixed solely on the one person she thought she could depend on during this shitshow. 

“Who was that?” she asked quietly, swallowing down her anger as much as she could, but she could feel it inching up her spine, the tightness around her chest and neck not easing up in the slightest. 

“She’s from work,” Barriss told her, standing from the sofa slowly and carefully, as if Ahsoka were a tiger pacing behind iron bars; a caged animal. 

Ahsoka flinched, eyes closing tight. “How long has it been going for?” she asked after a few seconds of silence, dreading the answer before it came. 

“Three months,” Barriss replied, quietly and Ahsoka could hear the shame that coloured her words but anger roiled at it, a small voice in her head roaring for Barriss to feel her pain, that she should be worse than ashamed. 

Outwardly, Ahsoka sighed shakily, tilting her head to the ceiling as her hands roughly scrubbed at her face. “Three months,” she murmured to herself, realising that was when she’d been in the middle of recording the album. “And not once you thought to tell me? To say it’s over?” And this time, the anger breached the surface, running hot under her skin

“I couldn’t!” Barriss retorted. “We were both so busy there was hardly any time and whenever there was, you’d be stressed over the album, or missing the guys or dealing with your boss. I didn’t want to add to that.” 

“So you thought you’d leave it until I found out? So that you wouldn’t  _ have  _ to tell me?” Ahsoka exclaimed, volume almost inching towards shouting. She could feel her phone buzzing against her leg in her pocket, but ignored it for the time being. 

“It was a better solution than telling you outright and causing you heartbreak during what looked like a very difficult time,” Barriss threw back, arms flailing as she attempted to justify her actions. 

“Well, it would’ve made for good writing material!” Ahsoka spat, anger clouding her vision and her judgement, and the little voice in her head rejoiced at Barriss’ flinch. “Why?” Ahsoka finally asked, voice heavy with sadness. 

“You were so busy, and I was getting lonely and...she was there,” Barriss told her, eyes shining with tears. Ahsoka could feel her own brimming as well, nose becoming snotty as her phone vibrated again. 

She stared at Barriss as she pulled it out of her pocket, sniffling before answering. “What?” she said, internally wincing at the vitriol in her tone. 

“Ahsoka?” came Obi-Wan’s shaky voice on the other line. 

“Obi? What’s wrong?” she asked, dread pooling in her stomach. 

“It’s Anakin,” he told her, and she could hear the panic in his voice. “You have to come to the hospital, please.” 


	3. 2 - Rex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I (finally) got inspiration to actually write this again!!! *pats self on shoulder* 
> 
> Granted, it is very short, and I mean it is really short but it has been quite a hectic week and I thought I'd try to get out something for Band AU before college started and I'd be swamped with work. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you're all feeling happy and healthy and that you enjoy this chapter and please do leave a comment and/or kudos to tell me what you think! They make my day! <3

When Rex was told he’d have to accommodate a new style for his solo album, this was not what he was expecting. He considered that it wasn’t what Qui-Gon was expecting either if his expression was anything to go by. 

The man that stared back at him through the mirror was not the one he’d known for twenty-eight years, it wasn’t him at all. It was as if Cody got a hold of him and tossed his teenage wardrobe on top of him. The stylist had been adamant that it looked good, and would be interesting for his fans to see. At least they left his hair alone, he didn’t let them touch it anyway. 

He was no stranger to make-up, but even he had to admit that the thick eyeliner was a bit much. The clothing wasn’t so bad, but the amount of leather on his body was inching just shy of uncomfortable. 

“I dunno,” he murmured, running his hand over the black sleeveless shirt that covered his torso. “Is the make up a bit too much?” 

Qui-Gon stepped closer, brow furrowed in consideration. “It depends on who you ask I suppose,” he said, circling Rex once to take in the entire outfit. 

“Well I am asking you, so in your humble opinion is it too much?” Rex asked again, plucking at the loose threads of his ripped jeans. And wasn’t that a recipe for destruction, giving the band member who fidgets multiple things to pull on. 

“Definitely,” Qui-Gon replied, to which the stylist scowled at him from where she stood off to the side of the mirror. “But to any of your fans it might work.” 

“That’s all I’ve been hearing about this album,” Rex grumbled as he began to change back into his own clothing. “It’s like I’ve had no say in this, even if it is my own solo album. Do you know if the others are facing the same problems?”

“Well I had a very long phone call with Ahsoka about the need for depressing songs, so you can expect that she is feeling much the same as you. Anakin hasn’t been in contact with me that much, although his days are usually packed from what I’ve heard and Obi-Wan is faring as well as you I’d wager,” he admitted with a heaving sigh. 

The four of them hadn’t been able to get together since the impromptu writing session on the roof, and Rex was feeling it. Anytime he did try to get into contact, Ahsoka would be the only one to answer and usually the first to end it as she’d be running off to another meeting or recording session. He hadn’t tried Anakin after the awkward phone call the first time. 

“Well, that’s that then,” he said with a sigh, feeling comfortable in his own skin again as he shrugged on his hoodie and jeans. “I guess we’ll have loads of headlines for the gossip magazines.” His deprecating laugh bounced off the walls of the dressing room as the two of them made their way to the main stage. 

As much as Rex hated his solo album - and hate was a very strong word for him to use but he did he  _ loathed  _ his solo album - he wouldn’t deny that it was fun to perform it on stage. Granted, in his own mind the drummist was replaced by Obi-Wan and the back up singers were Anakin and Ahsoka so it sounded better to him than it would if he were to actually pay attention. 

But the crowd seemed to love it, and Rex was in the mood to milk the atmosphere for all it was worth. 

It was a small concert venue, one of many as the higher ups planned to promote his album as much as they could. He hadn’t seen his own bed for going on four weeks now, and living out of his suitcase was getting irritating. 

None of the others had messaged him since he left, and from what he’d been able to gage from their social pages they didn’t seem to have time to do anything but work. So here he stood, one quarter of the 501st with the others practically thrown to the four winds. 

He suddenly felt angry, the words to his songs suddenly making sense to him and spewing out of his lips like venom. The crowd seemed to love it, becoming a heaving mass of sound as Rex paced the stage, fingers flying over the frets of his bass. 

Backstage was quiet and calm, a respite as Rex took a seat on one of the few sofas that lined the corridor. He tilted his head back to lean against the wall behind him, energy utterly spent and fingers tingling slightly. He didn’t want to move, and didn’t bother to open his eyes when the cushion dipped beside him. 

“I know we have to move but just give me five minutes,” he grumbled. 

“I think you’re going to need more than five minutes,” said a familiar voice, and Rex’s gaze snapped open to land on familiar blue-green eyes. 

“Obi-Wan? What- How- What’re you doing here?” Rex exclaimed, pulling his friend in for a tight hug with a laugh. 

“Well I had an appointment this morning and I saw you were performing and asked Qui-Gon to buy me a ticket. It was a very good show by the way, but I didn’t peg you as a Goth person,” Obi-Wan said, pointing to Rex’s outfit. 

“Yeah neither did I,” he admitted. He took note of the other’s new look, short hair framing a neatly trimmed beard. “What does Anakin think of the beard?” 

“He says it makes me look mature, but he thinks it needs a cut, and honestly so do I,” he said. “But apparently it is what Palpatine wanted for the look of the album. And the acting job too.” 

“Acting?!” Rex asked in surprise. 

“Yes, I was signed up for a small indie film a few weeks back. I think you’re the first to know,” Obi-Wan said. 

“What about Anakin?” Rex asked. 

“He’s been away on a modelling job in Miami. Something for a clothing brand or cologne I don’t really know,” Obi-Wan told him. “We haven’t really been able to see much of each other these few weeks. Palpatine seems adamant to keep up appearances of our ‘break up’ by keeping us busy.” 

And Rex could hear the loneliness and sadness in Obi-Wan’s tone, the anger he felt earlier on stage bubbling up again. He hated what Palpatine had done to them, how he had pulled them apart only to gain more money with no regard for their feelings and they couldn’t do anything about it because of their contracts. 

Obi-Wan noticed his expression and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. The two of them sat there, watching the crew dash about and the world go by as they considered their situation. It felt good to sit with one of his friends again, and he was sad when the two of them had to go their different ways by the end of the night. 

There was something comforting about being in your childhood home. Rex breathed in a lungful and sighed as the door fell shut behind him. He could hear the thundering of footsteps on the stairs followed by a small body ramming into his middle and almost sending him to the floor. 

“Hey bud,” he said, running his fingers through Boba’s thick dark hair. “You’ve gotten so tall.” And his little brother’s grip only got tighter, practically clinging to him as the two of them made their way to the kitchen. 

“Dad? You in here?” he called, limping as Boba clutched onto his pant leg. The kitchen was filled with the glorious smells of food, and he could feel his mouth filling with saliva. 

“Thought you were getting in later?” came his voice, and Rex grinned as he was pulled into a tight hug. Boba ended up squished in between them, complaining slightly. 

“Qui-Gon managed to get me an earlier train,” he replied. “Something smells good.” 

“It won’t be ready for a while, so you have time to unpack and get settled again,” Jango told him, patting his shoulder before turning back to the stove. 

“Alright, come on bud. I need to go pack,” he told Boba, somehow getting him onto his back and taking his bag upstairs.

He hadn’t been home in ages, and it felt good to be back in his own room with his own bed and his own things. Granted, he didn’t have all of his things from his apartment but he had his bookshelf so he was sorted for entertainment anyway. 

His phone buzzed with a message from Cody, saying he wouldn’t be able to join them as he was caught up in work but he would try to catch a flight over that weekend. So it was just him, Boba and his father at supper. 

“How’s the new album going?” Jango asked. 

“Good, we’re planning on releasing the B-Side next month which is great because we thought it wouldn’t be ready until May,” Rex said, trying to inject as much enthusiasm he could into his voice. 

“And what of the one for…” Jango inclined his head towards Boba, and Rex smiled encouragingly. He wanted to make something unique for Boba for his thirteenth birthday, and an album with a few personal songs for him was what he went with. 

It wasn’t an official project however, so he’d had to find times no one wanted to use the recording studio to get it finished. He was about half way through and was excited to see what Boba thought of it. 

His phone suddenly buzzed against his thigh, and he answered it once he was out in the hallway, excused from the table with a fond roll of his dad’s eyes. 

“Hello?” he asked, not recognizing the number. 

“Rex. It’s Obi-Wan.” And Rex furrowed his brow in confusion. 

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked, noticing the thickness of the drummer’s voice and its slight shake. He could feel something hot and slimy climb into his chest, and his heart started to thump faster and faster with anxiety. 

“It’s Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, and Rex could practically hear the tears in his voice. “Something happened during one of his races and he’s hurt. I’ve called Ahsoka but I really--” and Obi-Wan cut off with a harsh sob, sounding as if his throat was being ripped out with it. 

“Don’t say another word. I’m getting on the next train out right now. Just stay and wait for Ahsoka, alright?” Rex told him, listening as the other’s breathing hitched. “Obi you are so,  _ so  _ brave but I need you to breathe with me, yeah? I know it’s hard but you need to and Ahsoka will be with you soon, and it’ll be okay.” 

Rex ended the call once he had calmed Obi-Wan, but it wasn’t until he was sitting in his seat on the train when the severity of the situation hit him, and his own tears streamed down his face in rivers as he wondered what the hell had happened to Anakin. 


End file.
